


Tempore

by oppaisdead



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Long, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:19:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oppaisdead/pseuds/oppaisdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omnia Vincit Amor, Nos Et Cedamus Amori<br/>Love Conquers All Things, Let Us Too Yield to Love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempore

**Author's Note:**

> Contact info:  
> instagram: @oppaisdead  
> kik: ohitsjustlilith  
> kakao: oppaisdead  
> I take suggestions.

There were other boys… but then there was Jongin. Jongin, all brown eyes, dyed light russet hair, skin the color of milk chocolate, and captain of the dance club. Jongin, the boy who hit on every single girl he saw without even knowing it, and whose libretti purely hinted that he, may possibly be, a reincarnated god. His English was broken, which inexplicably made every maiden swoon for him. He didn’t have a customary group of friends, he’d bounce from posse to posse, always welcomed no matter who the assemblage consisted of. He was first of his class, venerated by all the teachers, but never called a teacher's pet. He knew how to keep to himself at times, and could often be unearthed in the gymnasium, sitting up on the stage with his earbuds in while everyone else was at break.  
This is when girls would routinely steal inside to get him forlorn, their knees knocking as they stood before him. He’d simply take out an earbud and smile, waiting, because he knew, oh, he knew, exactly what was about to occur. They’d shakily sputter their words, a series of broken sounds sometimes. The usual, “I’ve liked you for a while,” “I think you’re really cute,” and a final, “Will you date me?” in which the riposte was always a gallant, broken, “no.”  
There was no language barrier when it came to that gen. Jongin was always candid with what he wanted and what he didn’t. Even if it was an unpretentious “Would you like some water?” or a powerful “Do you love me?”  
There was no gender regulate to the love people had for him. In the spring of his second year a dapper boy by the name of Sehun had found his way into the gymnasium. He was part of the dance club with Jongin as well, and they had become friends formerly. Word bestowed that Sehun had tried to kiss him that day, and Jongin had simply put a finger to his lips and turned away, and walked slowly to the door.  
He was honestly rather mysterious. No one knew hardly anything about him. He had no “best friend.” No one had ever been to his house, or even seen his parents before. He wasn’t tangible, and he was simple, but arduously hard to understand.  
He was one of those people who you can’t help but fall in love with.  
So of course, Kyungsoo fell for him.  
Head over heels. From an exceptionally colossal distance. It was as if Kyungsoo was standing on the moon, while Jongin stood steady on the earth.  
Until one day his sister came home, talking about a new friend she made. It was Kyungsoo’s third year in high school, his sister's first year.  
They were sedentary at dinner, his parents speaking unobtrusively together in Korean. He knew enough to converse with them, but he definitely wasn't fluent. His sister cleared her throat, rather stridently, like the spoiled brat she was.  
“I met a new friends today.” Her English was crisp. Their parents hadn’t bothered teaching her Korean.  
Kyungsoo’s parents nodded, his mother's soft voice carrying across the spread as she attended herself to more rice. “What’s her name?”  
“Jungah.”  
“Oh, she’s Korean?”  
His sister nodded, rather forcefully. “Her brother is really cute, too.”  
Kyungsoo’s father grunted. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, now…”  
His sister rolled his eyes. “His name is Jongin.”  
Kyungsoo felt his heart respite. Jongin? Kim Jongin?  
“K-Kim Jongin…?” Kyungsoo sputtered out his words.  
“Yeah, you know him?” His sister asked, perking up a bit. Kyungsoo hardly ever spoke at dinner unless he was spoken to first.  
“He just goes to my school…”  
“Oh, alright.” The full mention of Jongin faded after that.  
By the end of the month Nari and Jungah were best friends. She ran into the kitchen one day, her other half trailing behind her.  
“Can Jungah stay over!!?” Her voice was jarring from her delight.  
Jungah resembled Jongin vaguely in the face. Her hair was black and straight, and very silky. Her eyes brought to mind his, and her skin was the same creamy toffy color. She was a very pretty girl, and Kyungsoo could admit it.  
His mother was busy chopping up onions, and her voice was slightly vexed when she spoke. “I suppose, if she has to.” A split second later they disappeared up the stairs, the door shutting a bit too loud for his mother’s taste, exerting a huff from her thin chapped lips.  
Kyungsoo was standing at the counter beside her, helping her launder the fresh vegetables.  
“That girl is ridiculous.”  
Kyungsoo smiled a bit and let out a soft laugh. “At least she has friends.”  
“That’s true… but I wish this culture wasn’t influencing her so much.” She was speaking Korean now, and Kyungsoo countered tenderly back in his parents native tongue.  
“She’s a good girl, I wouldn’t worry too much.”  
His mother meekly nodded.

The next morning Kyungsoo woke up to the tittering next door. He groaned, tossing over in his bed. He knew they didn’t even sleep. They were strident nearly the complete night, well, loud enough for him to hear, and he barely even slept because of it. He made his way to the bathroom, taking a nice sweltering shower. He let the boiling water run over his bare build in forgiving steaming streams. He found himself taking longer than he should, letting his thoughts meander just as the water down his back. When he got out he dressed himself and went downstairs, drinking a cup of coffee on the couch. His parents weren't home, so of course he was jammed with watching over the girls. They were being incredibly boisterous, their music audible from the downstairs couch where Kyungsoo was curled up in a fuzzy blanket, his coffee in one hand, his phone in the other.  
He didn’t know when he drifted back off to sleep, but he awoke to the sound of his sister opening the front door. He checked the clock and realized there was no way it could be his parents, and turned to see it was, in fact, not his parents.  
His eyes traveled up the stature of the boy standing in his doorway, his full one hundred and eight two centimeter lankiness, chestnut hair, and milk chocolate skin. His mind was still fuzzy from sleep, and when he finally realized that Kim Jongin was in his house he almost fainted.  
Jongin was elevated across the room, in all his beautiful graciousness, and his eyes perused over. He looked slightly shocked for a moment, but the expression melted away as a smile took over his lips. He waved gently to Kyungsoo, and then started talking to his sister.  
“Are you ready to go now, Jungah?” His voice was almost as he spoke to her, surprisingly in Korean. Kyungsoo’s sister, of course, looked dumbfounded at the sound of the language.  
“Not yet, Jongin-ah. I want to stay a little longer.” It suddenly dawned on Kyungsoo that the longer Jungah stayed, the longer Jongin would have to stay as well. His heart pounded at the thought. He wanted Jungah to leave right this second. An indulgent sigh escaped Jongin’s lips. “Alright, just for a little longer.”  
Kyungsoo felt his heart bead, and then dawn to pound when Jongin made his way across the room to sit on the same couch Kyungsoo was placed so nicely on.  
Kyungsoo’s immense eyes widened, his lips parted. He could barely hear due to his racing heart. His hands were shaking gently, and he hid it by wrapping the blanket closer around his shoulders.  
“I didn’t know you were Nari’s older brother.” Jongin stated, sitting on the love seat beside him. Kyungsoo was as far away from him as possible, and he absorbed his distress before speaking.  
“Y-Yeah…” He cursed himself for his nervous tendencies.  
The room hushed for a while. He had no clue what to say. He could scarcely get a solitary word out. Jongin seemed content with the silence, as he was scrolling away on his phone, legs crossed and back leaned back against the dainty blue couch.  
Kyungsoo took the time to study him. His hair was clearly dyed, as his roots were growing in just a touch, a sprightly black like coal. The strands stuck out gently, the split ends slightly frayed but still silky and silver-tongued. His eyebrows were generous, the dark strands of hair a bit shambolic, but still picturesque. The bridge of his nose was undiluted, and perfect for his face. His jawline was sharp, his face oval shaped, not too long or too short. His lips were arched at the bow, ample and circle sculpted. He studied the way his cheeks lifted up when he smiled, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. His face lit up when he smiled, and it reminded him of the way angels were portrayed. His beauty did not play off the light, the light played off his beauty.  
Only then did he realize Jongin was smiling at him, and he watched his smile slowly fade.  
“Are you alright?”  
Kyungsoo snapped out of his trance and realized he had been staring.  
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry…”  
He looked away again, focusing on his phone, a lump stuck in his throat. He was embarrassed. He didn’t mean to stare, it just seemed to happen. The room was quiet, almost beckoning to be filled with noise. Their breathing was slow, quiet. He took a few moments to watch the way the light flooded in from the window, watching it move with every cloud that covered the sun.  
“Kyungsoo, can I have a glass of water.”  
Kyungsoo’s heart skipped a beat. He knew his name. Kim Jongin knew his name.  
He stood up quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he walked to the kitchen. He shakily withdrew a glass and filled it with ice and water. When he turned around, Jongin was sitting quietly at the counter, waiting patiently. He slid the glass over the counter to him, listening to him softly breath a thank you. He watched the way his lips formed the words, the way his tongue pressed against his teeth when he pronounced the first syllable.  
Next thing he knew, Jungah was coming down the stairs, her bag in hand. Jongin turned at the sound of her and set the glass down, the ice clinking against the glass like the sound of wind chimes. It made Kyungsoo shiver.  
“I’m ready now.” Jungah’s Korean was broken, as Jongin’s English was. Jongin nodded softly and turned back around. “I hope to see you again soon, goodbye.”  
Kyungsoo’s cheeks flushed and he nodded, raising his hand to awkwardly wave goodbye.  
Kyungsoo watched quietly as Jongin left as easily as he came. And as Jongin walked out a feeling flooded Kyungsoo’s body just as the light flooded into the room. And that feeling was loneliness.

The loneliness was chronic throughout the week. School was grueling, which wasn’t too much of a dispute for Kyungsoo. He discovered himself to be able to keep up with the hectic exam season. He was brainy. He twigged how to study, as having a limited set of friends meant there was more than enough free-time in his diurnal routine, normally used to peruse his brain with rather futile information. He wasn’t sure how Jongin did it. The friend thing, that was.  
He caught himself thinking about Jongin and sighed. Their last meeting went fairly horrific in his opinion. He wasn’t looking forward to the resultant one.  
Kyungsoo took an indiscernible moment to scan his house. It was rather large, with a sizeable living room connected to the living room. The ceilings were lofty, covered with rows of contemporary disk shaped lights. The couch was where Kyungsoo mainly convened, and it was a comely pale sapphire. It faced a burgundy bricked fireplace with a slender flat screen overhead. Obverse the couch was a glass table, swelled with his mother's magazines on fashion and home décor, and the remote controls. The living room was all hard wood flooring, and a small blue and grey ornate rug sat inferior to the glass table. There was another couch abrupt to the one where Kyungsoo always sat, and it was decked with a nice floral pattern, following the grey and blue color scheme. The staircase was a few feet away from the fire place, and to the left of it was the hallway leading to the wooden front door, where, just a little over a week ago, Jongin had stood.  
His sister was upstairs and her voice was nomadic down the staircase like a harmonious harp. He figured she had to be schmoozing on the phone, with whom he presumed to be Jungah. She sounded exultant. It made him beam.  
He rubbed his forehead, sighing tenderly and checking his phone. No messages, just an email from some company offering him fifty percent off a coffee machine. He grumbled and stood up, only to see his sister coming down the stairs, her cell phone glued to her ear.  
“Kyungsoo.”  
Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “What?”  
“Jungah told me to tell you…” she paused for a moment and Kyungsoo rolled his eyes as he awaited for her to continue. “...that Jongin told her that he had a good time yesterday.”  
Kyungsoo’s heart pulsated and he veered his eyes away. “O-Oh… alright.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, and listened to his sister continue her conversation about lord-knows-what.  
Jongin had a good time? Kyungsoo’s gut twisted. They hadn’t even done anything. They exchanged a few words and then he simply got him a glass of water. He couldn’t have really said that. Jungah must have been just expressing that to make Nari content.  
His fortitude was in knots the rest of the day. He deemed sick to his stomach and he didn’t dine that night. The feeling was as if someone was kneading his insides like dough. He couldn't focus on his studies because Jongin kept weaving his way into his thoughts.  
If only he could grasp what he did to him? If he could only feel what happened when he came near, or even into view, then maybe, just maybe, he’d known to stay away. It was like a deer getting caught in headlights. Kyungsoo was the deer, and Jongin the driver. Kyungsoo would just stand there, dazed and helpless, not able to comprehend the honks as a signal.  
He’d never bore this feeling before. This impression of dread, of total fear of a person who wasn’t even trying to discomfort him. He was honestly jolted by Jongin. He liked him so much that he was afraid that the mere sight of him could possibly decay everything between them. He’d messed up shoddily yesterday. He thought there was no way to fix it. But Jongin had said he had a good time, remember? No, no, no. That was just Jungah’s courtesy. People lie about those affairs all the time. All the time.  
Kyungsoo rolled over in bed for the millionth time that night. His eyes had adjusted slightly too where he could see the apparitions of his furniture in a blue-black dotted daze. He glanced at the clock. Its menacing red lighting shined an impending 2:34 am straight at him.  
He groaned. Why this? Why him? Why did he have to be cursed with this?

Next thing he knew his alarm was going off rather vociferously. At some point in the night his body had given up. He was rather unpunctual that morning so he threw on the closest thing he could attain and scampered out to his car.  
He was wearing frayed jeans and a voluminous black shirt, the outfit completed with a baggy hoodie. His disordered bed head served as an accessory. High fashion. Fashion at its finest. He laughed quietly at his internal thoughts.  
Two exams and he was done with his school day. He sat in the courtyard, contemplating what to do for the rest of the day. It was only eleven after all. He put his headphones and just convened on the bench, contemplating. Library? The bookstore? Home?  
He huffed a bit and felt a pressure on the bench. Someone had sat down beside him. He looked over to see Jongin. His breath hitched. He swallowed thickly. He didn’t take his headphones out. Jongin sat serenely beside him like an angel, scrolling on his phone. Kyungsoo watched his long slender fingers tap the screen with precision and adroitness. And somehow he found the valor to speak.  
“W-Who are you messaging?” He took a headphone out quietly.  
Jongin smiled softly when he hearkened his voice. “Oh, me? Just my girlfriend.”

Time paused for a moment. How… how could he be so fatuous?! Of course he had a girlfriend. How could he not? It was no phenomenon that Jongin never accepted any maidens’ requests. No wonder that he disdained even the most lush and picturesque girls in the school.  
Kyungsoo felt his spirit sever. Splinter. He avowed he heeded the sound reverberate in his head. His mind went pallid. His body went ashen and numb, opening with his chest and exploding outward like a mortar.  
His girlfriend. Who… who was she? She had to be scenic. She was most likely an exemplary girl. A thin girl with honeyed silvery hair. Dusky eyes and long doe-like eyelashes. Long legs and pretty porcelain skin. She had to be watertight faultless. There was no other way.  
Kyungsoo cloaked himself in his ersatz aura. He put on his front. He smiled brightly.  
“What’s her name?” he voice didn’t waver as it normally did. It was smooth and crisp, bold.  
Jongin looked almost shaken at his change in character and he smiled, looking at his phone screen. “Areum.”  
Areum. It meant beautiful. How ironic. “‘Have you guys been together long?”  
“Two years.” Jongin smiles softly. “She lives back in Korea, though.”  
Kyungsoo consumed back the thoughts drowning his self-awareness. “That’s nice…” he stood up. He didn’t want to be here anymore. And with a small wave he left.  
And he left his emotions behind sitting on that bench.

Kyungsoo began to quiet down. He began to lodge in his room frequently. He began to sleep more as an alternative of studying. He’d annexed being accepted into three out of four colleges he had applied for. He cherry-picked one, and promptly, he just had to wait to attend in the spring. And wait. And wait.  
The gap seemed like it was eternal. Especially since he had nil to do. He wasn’t distraught anymore. He’d befallen immune to the spirits he felt that day, that ignorance and the feeling of his shattered chi. He had sluggishly begun to mend himself and move on.  
There was a halcyon knock at his door. He paused his reading and set the book on his knees, gawping over at the door. “Yes…?”  
Nari opened the door vigilantly. “Kyungsoo-ah…? Do you have a Band-Aid?” He perceived Jungah beside her, and then spotted the shadow someone move over behind them. He couldn’t see them very easily.  
“Yes.” He transferred over to his desk, quarrying through the paper and knick-knacks to extrude a Band-Aid. He ambled over to the door. “Is this alright?” He opened it slowly, his eyes focused on the wrappings.  
A honey caked voice replied. “That’s fine, thank you.”  
Kyungsoo’s orbs widened tenderly like a does as his eyes sketched up to appreciate the boy who he had itched for so profoundly. He was sporting ripped denims and a cream colored turtleneck, and costly gleaming cerulean dress shoes.  
“Kim Jongin?”  
He watched the grin light up his features. “It’s good to see you again after so many long months.” His voice was glib like satin, his hair freshly dyed and gently falling in his eyes.  
“It has been a while…” Kyungsoo’s heart was tranquil and deterred, it was audible in his voice. He thought that staying away would help rectify him. Sadly, that was not the case. Kyungsoo handed him the Band-Aid calmly.  
“Jongin wanted to hang out with you.” Jungah spoke rather loudly, her English as crisp as Nari’s.  
“Did he?” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows in discernible surprise.  
Jongin laughed softly, not spotting Kyungsoo’s cold aura. “I thought I’d let them have some girl time and spend some time to get to know you.”  
“You want to get to know me…?”  
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” Kyungsoo recoiled at the luster of his smile.

Ten minutes later they were on Kyungsoo’s bed, surrounded by snacks, the radio playing quietly.  
“Did you apply for college?” Jongin asked, as munched away on some chips. Kyungsoo was sloping against the headboard, slightly uncomfortable, since Jongin was acting as if he’d known him for years.  
“I did.”  
“Where too?” Jongin was sitting crisscross atop the bed, leaning against the wall. Kyungsoo watched the way that his straight chestnut tresses around in his eyes, and the way his eyelashes smoothly brushed his cheeks when he blinked.  
“A few places….”  
Jongin sighed and gave up, shifting the matter to something else. All the while, Kyungsoo’s hands were juddering. His heart was pulsating a thousand miles an hour. He could scarcely think and he lingered more on his replies.  
Jongin was starting to pick up on his nervous behavior. “Are you alright…?”  
“Of course I am.” Kyungsoo’s voice was accidentally brusque, and he immediately regretted saying it the way he did. “I’m sorry…”  
Jongin just shook his head. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Kyungsoo?”  
Kyungsoo realized he hadn’t been texting at all while he’d been with him. “No, no, please don’t worry about me.” He counterfeited a smile and chucked him a bag of candy. “Try these, you’ll like them.”  
Jongin did as he asked. It was taciturn in the room again. Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip slightly, sipping some water, the bottle crinkling bitterly.  
“How are you and your girlfriend?”  
“We are good! She recently got a boyfriend.”  
Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows. “Your… girlfriend got a boyfriend…?”  
Jongin smiled. “Yep, they’re doing great.”  
“But you’re her boyfriend.”  
Jongin looked confused. “No I’m not. I’m her friend. She’s my friend.”  
Kyungsoo smacked himself in the face mentally. Girl friend. Two words. A friend who is a girl. He spent these months mourning over a girl who was just Jongin’s friend. He took an awkward sip of his soda.  
“Oh, that makes sense.”  
Jongin busted out laughing when he realized the misconception. “She’s not my girlfriend. I’m gay.”  
Kyungsoo spit his purple soda all over his pretty white bed sheets.  
Jongin raised his eyebrows. “Jesus, Soo…”  
Soo?! Gay?! What the hell was going on?!  
“Ah, gosh…” Kyungsoo hustled off his bed, pulling the comforter off and scuttling it to the washing machine. Jongin followed, watching Kyungsoo’s face turn red. “Geez, I’m sorry Jongin.”  
Jongin guffawed again, the din symphonic. “No, please. Don’t apologize. I guess it was a bold statement.”  
Kyungsoo mumbled under his breath, turning his back to him as he started fumbling with the knobs on the washing machine.  
“Can I help?”  
“No, no. It’s all done now.” Kyungsoo turned back around, pushing past to get back to his room He realized, in the process, how much taller Jongin was than him. He venerated that in masses.  
Jungah and Nari were squealing as they walked past Nari’s room, and their music was thunderous.  
“Jungah probably showed her Korean boy groups.” Kyungsoo curbed a laugh before leaning against the wall and letting it escape his lips boisterously. Jongin examined him, his smile only vivifying. He felt his heart skip a throb and their ecstatic laughs chorused.  
“It’s true!” Kyungsoo pushed Jongin’s arm impishly, then friskily placed his head on his shoulder, his body still wracking with his laughs.  
Jongin took a moment to breath. His smiled wilted. His cheeks flushed momentarily, then he regained himself and playfully shrugged Kyungsoo off whilst rallying for Jungah.  
“Jungah! Time to go!” Jungah ran out soon after, a frown on her lips, but obeyed him all the same.  
“I’ll see you later Kyungsoo.” Jongin gave him a small wave, and disappeared down the stairs.  
Later that night Kyungsoo’s phone beeped. The number from the message was foreign, but Kyungsoo sensed who it was all the same. 

// Hey, Soo. I had a good time today. :) //

Kyungsoo beamed in the dusky light.


End file.
